


Little Talks by the Kitchen Counter

by Marudny_Robot



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Apologies, Cooking Lessons, Enemies to Friends, Gen, M/M, Mild Language, Misunderstandings, Pre-Relationship, to 'omg-I-think-I'm-pinning-for-him'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 03:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17154497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marudny_Robot/pseuds/Marudny_Robot
Summary: It all started with an empty fridge. Or, more accurately, with an empty fridge, more than few concerned comments from his friends about his inability to live like a healthy functioning adult and him taking some of those comments to heart.





	Little Talks by the Kitchen Counter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redrobinfection (ChristmasRivers)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristmasRivers/gifts).



> JayTim Secret Santa gift for redrobinfection. I went with the prompt: “just make sure you’ve eaten” and… built on it a little. Have fun reading and I hope it'll be to your liking!  
> Merry Christmas and very best in the new year! :)

It all started with an empty fridge. Or, more accurately, with an empty fridge, more than few concerned comments from his friends about his inability to live like a healthy functioning adult and him taking some of those comments to heart.

For Tim it was like a waking up call.

Admitting that something has to change was the first and hardest step. Then, upon analyzing his life, daily schedule, and his proficiency in various activities the theoretical version of healthy functioning adult engages in, he came to clear conclusions in which areas he was lacking and in which he wasn’t.

The “tax-paying, honest working man with a job” part he had. The “college student” part was questionable, because he wasn’t sure if he could find time or if he even want to go to college (he put it into the “later” category). There was also “Red Robin, vigilante” part which, obviously, wasn’t included in the theoretical model of the healthy functioning adult, but Tim wasn’t going to get rid of it. If Bruce, Clark and the whole Justice League didn’t, why should he? Besides, he could always put that part into “hobbies and self-improvement” category of his theoretical model and no-one would bat an eye.

What left was “health and taking care of his home” part. And here was where Tim had to make an improvement.

He guessed that it wouldn’t be hard to make more effort to clean regularly, at least to some degree – and he was right. After month of reminding himself to clean, he was happy to discover that he had more mugs than he thought at the beginning. And surprised that the floor had different color than he previously thought.

Cooking on the other hand… It was simply a disaster.

At first, he tried to learn alone – after all you don’t need to look far to find some simple tutorials or even simple recipes. However it ended… _well…_

Tim couldn’t believe he was _that_ pathetic in the kitchen – until he had to buy knew utensils after first attempts (previous ones being too charred, bent and with holes in places were they shouldn’t be). He couldn’t even grasp _when_ everything went wrong. There was no other choice – he needed a ~~supervision~~ teacher.

Cooking lessons by someone who didn’t _know_ him were a definite _no-no_. Tim didn’t want to read about how Timothy Drake-Wayne _accidentally_ burned someone’s kitchen. Even if he went by alias, there would probably be a moment when he will pay back for damage – and it would be a moment for someone to go by a money trail and connect him to his alias (if not recognizing him at first glance, that is).

But finding someone who would help him _and_ know him wasn’t easy either. Tim needed someone who would stay with him during the whole duration of the lessons and wouldn’t mind if he made brakes to answers e-mails and/or help with the cases.

Tim had to be available to everyone night-and-day _just in case_ and that was the most inconvenient part.

He guessed ( _hoped,_ really) that the best candidates, would be those working under Batman – they are aware of his schedule, no need to travel far (with almost everyone being in Gotham), he wouldn’t have to lie about who he is (and he can tell you from the experience how tiring it is) – the only question was: _who_.

Unfortunately, within vigilante community of Gotham, there weren’t many who knew their way around the kitchen at the level to which Tim wanted to learn. Although those who knew _something at least_ weren’t as pathetic as Tim – even Bruce who, Tim was 90% sure, was doing this to keep his Brucie persona and Alfred was letting him.

So, theoretically speaking, _he could_ ask one of them. He just didn’t want to. After all, when you want to _make a point_ , you don’t half-ass things. And Tim was ready to prove everyone wrong. (Still, if he couldn’t find anyone capable, they were his last resort, sadly.)

In the end, he was left with three options.

 _Option one_ : Alfred. Overall good (if not the best) choice. Unfortunately, all the lessons would be held in the Manor (since Alfred had some problems with his hip and couldn’t travel between Manor and his apartment) and that would mean Damian. And Bruce.

Tim didn’t want any more witnesses than his potential teacher.

 _Second option_ was Steph, which didn’t sound as bad, but they were still trying to find their footing around each other. Too much happened between them for it to go overnight, no matter how they may care for each other and try to work it out. So, in the end, one lesson may go uneventful and productive for him or they would end up throwing knives at each other and not speak for a week or two.

 _No_ , Tim was tired and stressed to much already every day, not saying the additional stress those lessons will give him, no matter with who. Those Schrödinger lessons weren’t what Tim was looking for. Which was _funny,_ because his third and last option was _Jason_. Jason _Fucking_ Todd who, until about two or three years ago, was hell-bent on being his personal nightmare besides Damian.

Normally he wouldn’t even consider asking Jason for anything, much less for help in the personal matter. It was Alfred who suggested that he asks Jason – and Alfred wouldn’t suggests someone who would want to kill Tim or only laugh at him, _right?_

 

 _So_ that was how Tim found himself standing in Jason’s safe house, not moving from one place and looking everywhere but at him, trying to find the right words to ask him for help with this little personal matter.

“Replacement, I already told you everything I know. What more do you want? To shoot your suspect?”

…Oh, yeah. And prolonging his stay.

“I have a favor,” Tim started, still feeling the opposite of brave. “And it’s not about the case.”

Jason only looked at him in question and prompted to continue. But he didn’t decline at start, which meant that Tim might have a chance.

He took a deep breath.

“Teach me how to cook.”

Tim congratulated himself. He said it loud, clearly and even hold the eye contact. There’s no way Tim had to repeat himself.

“Excuse me, _what_? _”_

Curses.

“I need someone to teach me how to cook” Tim tried again, his tone calm. “Alfred suggested you. Would you help me?”

Jason was blinking, stunned, as if he was still processing the whole situation.

“And Alfie couldn’t because…?”

“He has too much to do during the day anyway. And his hip? He couldn’t stand with me in the kitchen all day.”

Jason grimaced.

“You sure, there’s no-one else? Don’t you have friends?”

“I’m sure, I asked.” Tim bend the truth a little. “So, it’s a yes or no?”

Jason didn’t answer. “Sign for cooking lessons?”

Tim grimaced. “That would end, _ah…_ badly. Very, very badly.”

Jason raised his eyebrows. “That doesn’t convince me, you know?”

Tim winced, because _yeah_ , he was aware how he presented his case. But he _really_ needed help. He was getting ready to swallow his pride and actually _beg_ for the help, but he was stopped by Jason.

“What’s in there for me?” Jason asked, tiredly.

Tim faced him, surprised. “You in?”

“Not yet. Say what’s in there for me first and, _maybe_ , I’ll think about it.”

Tim didn’t have to think what to offer Jason, he already got the list of potential payment prepared.

“Upgraded weaponry, info for your cases – whatever you need, help with your cases – if you need one. And I won’t kill. Blackmail on Dick and Bruce and, of course, payment for the lessons.”

He listed, while Jason nodded, listening.

“Let’s say I’ll agree…” Jason started and Tim couldn’t help but smile. “But I have conditions.”

Tim wasn’t deterred. “Name them.”

“We are cooking at your place – you won’t be wrecking mine.”

“Of course.”

“You are buying everything I tell you to and where I tell you to. I’m not giving a cent, _capiche_?

“Of course I will.” Tim smiled wider.

Jason sighed, as if wondering in what mess he just get into, before stretching his hand out for a handshake.

“So let’s talk about schedule, shall we?”

 

&&&

 

And that’s how every Tuesday and Saturday evening you could find Jason in Tim’s home.

Honestly speaking, Jason still wasn’t sure if he made the right decision. The time spend on the lessons could be utilized better – like additional patrol, or upgrading his weaponry. _Hell_ , he could spend time reading and relaxing instead of willingly spending time with his _replacement_.

Jason _didn’t know_ if he made the right decision, but he knew why he agreed for this.

Maybe he tried to make up for what he did, _so what?!_ Besides, it was Kory, who pointed to him numerous times that, if he want to _mend_ his relationship with the Bats, then _Red Robin_ was the perfect start. Besides, Alfred recommended _him_ for the teacher. And Jason simply couldn’t turn the kid away without disappointing Alfred.

 

First lesson was a _mess_. Jason’s plan for first lesson was to make Tim tell him what he knew and didn’t know how to do and let him prepare something he could do, just so he could gauge how good Replacement was. Easy, right?

Apparently not, because Tim not only didn’t know, _didn’t understand_ , how certain ingredients worked, he was also _distracted_. A lot.

At first it was some phone calls from WE. Then Titans about some villain, then _Bruce_ asking about the progress in some cases. At some point Jason started reminding him that he should look if the water wasn’t boiling (and he wasn’t going to do it himself – after all, as his teacher, he had to see how Timmers was fairing left to himself), but Timmers ignored him more often than not.

It ended with water being over-boiled, spaghetti turning into mushy pulp, sauce burnt and Tim flailing around his arms in panic as he run to save whatever was left.

If someone would have told him, that Timothy Drake-Wayne, Red Robin, _that smooth motherfucker_ who was moving as a _liquid silk_ or some shit like that while taking down assassins, turned to that clumsy garbage in his natural habitat, he would’ve punched the fucker. And then would thought about how he landed in another universe, _a_ _gain_.

Seriously, the whole scene lacked the kid tripping on air, with a full pot in his hand. Defeated, Jason readied himself that he would have to keep an eye on everything.

Fortunately, with every lesson a little improvement was seen.

At first they worked on _distractions_ , because that’s where one of the main problems lied. Tim first had to inform all interested parties that his phones (both the work and private one) were off-limits during those evenings. Then he had to _try_ finish his work earlier. Jason only had to remind him quite often to keep his eyes on the pots, to check if he was _sure_ that he grabbed the right ingredient and to _stir this goddamned sauce Drake._

Tim’s mind was still often caught more on cases and work then on whatever they were cooking, but soon they learned that talking helped. That was why Jason was spending two evenings in the week cooking and listening to Tim Drake talk, which _surprisingly_ , he didn’t mind that. He quickly learned that he enjoyed listening how Tim was solving the cases, showing different points of view Jason usually ignored, or how Tim was _bitching_ about his work, often parodying other Board Members and co-workers. Sometimes Jason gave his five cents, sometimes not. He rarely started talking about his day, but only because he wasn’t the type to share what was on his mind.

In the end, they both were nicely surprised realizing that they were _having fun_ during those lessons.

However, there was one time, when Jason came angry.

 _Angry_ maybe wasn’t the best word. When Jason was _angry_ he left dead bodies with holes in their head. It’s usually clearly seen that he should be left alone then. So _no_ , when he visited Tim, he was more likely… _irritated_ , than angry.

At first he tried to hide it – he was trying to change after all, and he didn’t intend on lashing out on Timmers. It wouldn’t even be fair on him, as he wasn’t the reason for Jason’s ire. But as the time went, it was getting harder and harder to stay calm.

Tim was obviously aware of Jason’s mood. At first he didn’t say anything – but then Jason began cursing out everything around him.

“Jason?” Tim said, stopping him.

“ _What._ ”

“You want to talk about it?”

Jason took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “ _No_.” No, he didn’t want to talk about Bruce and his _assholery._ Or Dick and him _being a dick_ , or his _goddamned_ Pit-induced nightmares and how everything in this fucking world seemed to simply _hate his existence._

But Tim-fucking-Drake was one unrelenting _bastard_.

“You sure? Talking actually helps. And it’s not like you might shock me _much_ with whatever you would tell me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Timmers,” he said trying to be left alone.

“ _Really…_ ” And Jason thought, Tim would leave at it. He was wrong.

“Look,” Tim started, for some reason irritated. “If you would just _let it out_ it would be better for everyone. You wouldn’t make so many breaks to _smoke_ , we would finish cooking _early_ and I would _finally eat_ _today_ _._ ”

The last part surprised Jason. He blinked.

“ _What_ the fuck, you mean _you haven’t eaten_?”

Tim shrugged. “I’m busy most of the day, it happens.”

Jason glare was saying enough how much he judged Tim’s habits. Unfortunately, Tim was used to those glares.

“Look, it isn’t such a big deal!” Tim tried to excuse himself. “After few hours I stop being hungry.”

Whatever anger Jason held before, now it completely evaporated. Instead _concern_ quickly took it place.

“Please, tell me you eat _something_ at all.”

“Lunch at work and maybe a sandwich if Tam reminds me to eat something.” Tim didn’t seem to realize what’s wrong with had he said. “Usually I’m not so hungry. And when I am I have work to do first.”

Jason could as well see Tim for the first time. _Jesus._ Now it made sense why Red Robin slowly stopped being such a hot shit and terror of the night as he was when he was wearing green and yellow in his costume. He wasn’t sure why that realization angered and scared him at the same time, but he knew one thing – he had to do something about it.

“New rule, Timmers. We eat first, cook later.”

“Isn’t it usually the other way?” Tim asked with humor in his voice and Jason smacked him at the head, because it wasn’t funny! To think, Little Red had such _disregard_ for his own health… Jason was more set on changing this situation.

‘Eating first, cooking later’ wasn’t the only change in their lessons. Jason decided to forgone easy recipes. If Tim would have some time to spare in his busy schedule, he wouldn’t use it on cooking. Unfortunately, work – the day and night one – would always be more important, so cooking was something Tim had to plan ahead. Dishes which he could just make once and then only heat up the pot whenever he was hungry were ones he was looking for. That’s why soups, chilli, or whatever variation of ‘put-it-into-the-pot-and-cook’-dish was what they were working for the next months.

And after some time, since they started, Jason was proud to see the changes. Timmers could now made some of those dishes without being too liberal with wrong ingredient (and Jason shuddered at the memory of over-salted soups). Not, only that, Red Robin could again often be seen terrorizing the criminal side of Gotham.

Red Hood was proud, as he watched Tim punching and kicking Black Mask’s men and not getting tired so fast as he did before.

He definitely liked what he saw.

 

&&&

 

Half a year later and Tim found himself anticipating for the next cooking lesson with Jason. He didn’t expected those to be _so fun_. Was this feeling he had, the same one his friends from school had when waiting for Christmas to come? Tim couldn’t tell and didn’t care.

He just wanted the next lesson to start already.

But, as he thought more about it, patrol also seemed good. He and Jason started to work together on cases, or just talk over the comms – quite often continuing their discussions and recalling funny situations from their cooking lessons.

Of course, as promised, Jason didn’t tell a soul that he was teaching Tim. As far as the rest Bats knew, Tim and Jason suddenly started working together and talking with each other.

And speaking of working together, since few lessons ago Jason actually _asked him_ to help with his case. He never did that before. To be honest, the only payment he took from him was money, despite other offers Tim has given him. And _ok_ , maybe before Jason started nagging him about _eating more_ , he wasn’t really such a good asset for the patrol. But that changed. And Tim was happy with how much more he could do now before getting tired.

Jason asked for help with taking down Black Mask’s shipment, which – according to gathered information – was simply on bigger scale for one guy to take.

They still had time before it, and already more than half a plan formed (with few additional ones), but Tim couldn’t help but think more about it, ignoring his own cases and work sometimes.

Like right now.

“You finished daydreaming, Boss?” Thanks to Tam, now he did.

He _of course_ denied doing that in the first place, but _of course_ she didn’t buy that.

Tam smiled cheekily at him “So, who’s the girl?”

Tim only looked confused. “What girl?”

“So, it’s a guy?!”

“Tam, _what?_ What ‘guy’?”

Her Boss’ confusion worried Tam, so she tried to explain it to him. “Let’s start from here: what you were thinking about just now?”

“My… _meeting_. Meeting with Jason.” Tim answered trying to forgone mentioning anything related to their night-lives in the office.

Tam smiled at him, gesticulating _there, you have it._

Tim finally understood.

“You think that _I_ …? _Jason…?!_ ” She only nodded.

“N _oo.”_

“ _Oh,_ Tim.”

“ _No._ There’s nothing between us. Never was and _never will be_. _Stop laughing at me!_ ”

Tam didn’t stop laughing as she exited his office, leaving Tim with his denial, thoughts and new founded realization.

He wasn’t sure. _Did he really liked Jason that way?_

Dammit! He was a grown man, not some schoolgirl with a crush! And he was definitely _not_ dreaming about Jason Todd a moment ago!

He looked at the pile of paperwork Tam just left for him and took first file from it. The best way to distract himself from those annoying thoughts was to concentrate on some _actual work_.

But, not even finishing the third of this pile, Tim found himself dreaming about his next meeting with Jason.

 

&&&

 

One patrol before their Saturday lesson, left Tim with new collection of stitches and bruises on his chest.

Jason couldn’t help but glance every minute or two at Tim. That little shit didn’t want to _forgone one effing lesson_ to lay down and relax. _And now_ Jason had a little heart-attack every moment the bastard showed some sign of being uncomfortable.

And, _ok_ , maybe Jason was panicking a little too much. Tim wasn’t hurt _that bad_ – they all had worse done to them. Really, it was just the case of ‘it looked worse than how it was really’. Besides, he quickly brought Red Robin to the cave back then – and there’s no-one better with stitches than Alfred, _so really_ , Jason had no reason to being so worried.

But he was and couldn’t help taking every heavy thing from Tim’s hands.

“I _had it_ , Jay.” Tim glared at him. It wasn’t the first time during that lesson.

Jason didn’t comment, not wanting to argue. Tim Drake was little _argumentative shit_ and if he couldn’t make him take this evening _off_ without almost wanting to strangle him, then arguing now would take them no-where.

Jason sighed. Tim’s condition brought another problem, namely: Black Mask’s shipment. It was supposed to be in few days and Jason couldn’t with clear conscience let Tim to go with him.

“Jay?” Tim stopped cutting carrots and turned to Jason “What’s going on?”

Jason didn’t answer immediately. He stirred the soup, while gathering his thoughts. He didn’t know how to convey his thoughts, and every version in his head sounded bad.

 _I’ll take care of the shipment, you stay home_ would anger Tim and probably let him also think that Jason considered him not competent enough for that mission.

Simply ordering _stay home_ would not bring any results. Tim wasn’t a little shy Robin anymore and now usually no-one could tell him what to do.

 _I don’t want you getting more hurt_ was the most accurate, but… no. Jason would not say this.

 _Fuck gently breaking it to him_ , he thought. Then decided to start with facts.

“I don’t need your help to take down Black Mask’s shipment.”

“The _fuck_?”

Jason sighed, as Tim answered exactly as he expected him to do so. What was worse, Jason already angered him enough today.

“What do you mean ‘ _I don’t need you_ _r help_ ’? Then why the hell did you even _asked me_ in the first place?”

“Exactly what it means” Jason answered calmly. “I asked you before because I thought I would need your help, but now I don’t.”

Tim froze, clearly trying to understand what he just heard. Jason wasn’t sure if he should have tried to explain clearer what he _really meant_ by what he already said, but he hoped Timmers would understand him. Because it was Tim, right? That’s the one guy who would _get the clue_ , right?

Moment later, slowly, Tim started to move again, getting back to cutting vegetables. He didn’t say anything, concentrating on his task, but Jason noticed that he put more force into each cut than before.

When finished he faced Jason.

“Ok. _I get it_. Considering my latest injury, you thought I shouldn’t be taking part in that case.”

Jason exhaled, because _thank fucking G-d_ Tim understood what he meant.

Tim continued. “But whatever concern you might have, those are unjustified. I took similar and harder cases in worse state.”

 _Wait what_?

“I’m not taking you with me” Jason said the first thing that was on his mind, not really noticing he was talking aloud.

“And _why not_?”

Jason gritted his teeth in frustration. _Because I don’t want to see you die and have your blood on my hands as I carry your_ _body back to the cave_.

“It isn’t a good idea.” He finally seethed out.

“You think I can’t take care of _mobsters_? _I_? A _seasoned-fucking-vigilante_?” Tim now seriously got offended, and Jason wanted to tear his hair out of frustration. _Why_ couldn’t he be more open with his feelings _as Kory was reminding him to._

“I think that the only thing you could do currently is _cough blood at them_.” He snapped instead.

“Well _, fuck you_.” And now Tim was fully angry at him. “I don’t know what’s your problem is, considering that between you and me? _I’m the one who never died._ ”

“Excuse _me_?” _Oh,_ so that’s how the little shit wanted to play. “For someone who _never died_ , you certainly don’t wait to _jump to the grave._ Should we be _concerned?_ ”

Silence fallen upon them.

Jason dared to glance at Tim, but Tim ignored him. They both tried to calm down, grip on whatever they were holding tightening.

Jason wanted to get out. Now.

“ _Look_ ” He said, already on his way to the door. “I _don’t want_ to fucking see you there, ok? I will take care of it, _alone_. _”_

 

Tim didn’t look as Jason slammed the door to his home.

 

&&&

 

For the next few days Tim was adamant on ignoring Jason. And Jason was also hell-bent on ignoring him too, so it wasn’t that hard.

But sooner than this Tim had calmed down enough to realize what an asshole he was to Jason. Now, problem was, that he didn’t know for _how long_ they would ignore each other. Would they meet on their next lesson? Would not? Would they ever talk again together? There was no telling how long Jason would hold grudge.

Tim hated not knowing were he was standing. He had three options: apologize to Jason ( _which didn’t seem possible in the nearest future_ ), wait until he would talk to him again ( _which could happened… never_ ), or forget about Jason completely.

Tim wasn’t the person to leave things be. He couldn’t just _scratch out_ Jason from his life and move on. At this point Jason was too important to him.

He finally decided. If Jason won’t meet him on his own will, he would have to find him first. And he knew _exactly_ where Jason soon would be.

That was why, day before planned shipment, Tim didn’t go on his own patrol to prepare for the next day.

 

Two days later Tim sat besides his kitchen table, in silence.

He didn’t plan to wake up early (and sleep so little), but he couldn’t help it. He was too stressed to fall asleep again. So he showered, got dressed, ate something and generally got ready for his ten o’clock meeting and full day in the office, _yet_ he still had too much time to spare before he had to leave. He couldn’t recall when was the last time he was ready to his office with time to spare at all. Normally, he was rushing after waking up, sometimes forgetting to bring what he was supposed to bring. This time, however, he was _sure_ he actually had everything ready – triple checked it, even.

Yet, there was something nagging on his mind, the feeling that was squeezing his insides and alarming of something important, but he couldn’t pinpoint _what._

So he made another coffee, sat down and let his thoughts wander.

The first thing that came to his mind was Jason. Jason, who currently was sleeping in his bed – but only because Red Robin was hurrying to get Red Hood to safe place and look over his wounds. And it wasn’t like that he considered _his_ _place_ to be the only _safe_ one he knew – it was just the nearest (and time wasn’t on their side).

Because, you see, Tim ignored Jason and went to help him _anyway_. Because _fuck him_ and trying to be some knight in the shining armor.

That mission was a mess. Jason was being an asshole, telling Tim to _go home_. And Hood’s informant was shit – probably Black Mask’s snitch.

In the end they didn’t stop Roman’s shipment and were almost blown up _after_ almost being turned into _Swiss cheese_ with all that surprise shooting. _Thank Wonder Woman_ , that they are alive and for Bart and Kon on a speed dial (who were ready for signal, according to one of Tim’s additional back-up plans).

Tim concentrated on that nagging feeling in his head and noted that it was getting stronger, clearly connected to something he just thought about, yet not quite close.

He finished his coffee, closed his eyes and then let his thought wander again. This time they went to his last talk with Tam and _that_ was probably what he was looking for. Jason _was_ important to him, right? And he acted like an asshole to him.

Did he even apologized? Although, just last night, he helped Jason with his patrol and saved his ass, it didn’t really count as an apology? Tim sighed. Even if he did count that as one, doesn’t mean Jason also would. There was no running from this one.

But something was stopping him from even thinking about it.

It wasn’t that he really _didn’t_ want to apologize to Jason (even if he was still angry at what he said), because he wanted to. And that _want_ didn’t arouse from some social expectation, or that _Alfred would be sad_ , if he learned the truth.

Tim pondered a little more over that feeling and came to simple conclusion. He was scared of confronting Jason.

 _Irrationally_ , he chastised himself, trying to lessen the fear. But every time he said so, more and more examples (from his own experience even) spoke in favor of the fear.

 _Apology_ , he thought, abandoning for a moment his latest thoughts. _Apology without confronting Jason – how to do so?_

He could always leave a letter? But that would be a cheap move and, considering them, insincere apology. Tim and Jason were both men of action and one – no matter how wordy – letter couldn’t even start to mend whatever relationship they started to have.

It had to be something important for both of them – or at least, something they both shared and Tim needed _another_ coffee and was already grabbing another mug from the cupboard _above the kitchen counter…_

He looked at the stove, lighting up.

_He had an idea._

 

&&&

 

Jason’s usual wake up call were nightmares. Not someone’s making a noise in the kitchen.

So, upon opening his eyes, the first thing he did was assessing the current situation. He then recalled the last 24 hours. Then he looked around and took note that he recognized the room as the one in Tim’s apartment (he was here _once_ when Tim was looking for some CD for them to listen to). That’s when he finally calmed down. There was no reason to be on alert, but he didn’t go back to sleep. He actually was woken up _before_ the climax of his usual nightmare – and that was a nice change.

He sat up slowly, trying to gauge the extend of his injuries. Nothing seemed to be broken, _thankfully_ , but the number of new stitches and bruises weren’t making him specially dance in happiness.

There was no other way around it. He clenched his teeth and slowly stood up. He needed to pee, after all.

There was no bathroom connected directly to his room, but there was one just besides it. Going out he glanced in the kitchen direction and – how he expected – Tim was working there, completely ignoring Jason.

Jason ignored him too.

Not long later he went out from the bathroom and without further ado went straight to the kitchen and sat besides the table.

He saw the exact moment Tim turned and saw him.

“ _Fu-!_ ” Only thanks to his trained reflexes Tim could caught the plate with pancakes which he _momentarily_ let fall.

“ _Jason._ ” Tim said slowly, mind halfway still on almost-lost pancakes. “You’re awake?”

“More than you, _obviously_.”

“ _Screw. You._ ”

Jason laughed as Tim put the plate in front of him. He proceed to eat (noting that they actually tasted better than Tim’s ever first attempt), while Tim took off the apron he was using and was getting ready to leave.

“What about you?” He asked, moment before Tim grabbed his keys. There was no need to ask where he was going – clothes being dead giveaway.

Tim blinked, as if suddenly seeing Jason. “I ate earlier,” he answered, grabbing the keys. “I’ll be back late. If you are going to leave, then just turn on my security, ok?”

He was about to open the door but stopped, hand halting mid-way.

“And, _um_ , Jason?”

Jason looked at him, shoving another pancake into his mouth “ _Yea’?_ ”

Tim turned and caught his gaze. “I… _I apologize_ for what I said earlier. _Sorry_. I was an asshole.”

Jason didn’t have time to process what he heard and answer as Tim quite as _bolted_ , almost forgetting to close the door behind him.

He teared his gaze from the door, blinking. Turning back to his breakfast, he was thinking _what the hell just happened_ , still not being _exactly sure_ what Tim was apologizing for.

When pancakes were finished and he was left wandering what to do _now_ , he noticed a folded sheet of paper lying on the table, besides the plates. Immediately he took it and started to read.

 

_I apologize for earlier._

_I acted like an asshole, last time you were teaching me. I have no excuse for myself. I don’t expect forgiveness, but I hope you won’t mind teaching me again._

_-Tim_

_PS: Sorry if the pancakes are shit. I tried. Just make sure you’ve eaten, ok?_

 

Jason slowly stood up, determination sinking in. He now knew what to do.

 

&&&

 

Tim glared at the foam slowly growing in the pot.

He didn’t hear from Jason since the apology. Not even a word were he was.

He was tired, hungry, thinking of sleep and had a mountain of work to do before patrol. He didn’t have any strength to cook, yet he didn’t want another week of take-out – his pride didn’t let him.

Tim believed in his ability to cook something simple _without_ supervision and wanted to prove to himself that those months of Jason teaching him for sure weren’t in vain.

He glared again at the _maybe_ boiling water and two eggs in it. Was that water even boiling? Did it need bigger flame? Different pot? Less salt? As an experiment he turned off the gas and took out the _surprisingly hot_ eggs, to see how hard they were.

…On the plus side he just gave the new meaning to hard-boiled eggs (and probably utilized new weapon, considering the new crack in his floor). On the minus side…

 _Fuck this,_ Tim thought, desperation overtaking him. _I still need supervision. And take out._ _And sleep._

_And fuck Jason for not giving a sign if he’s alive or not for those two fucking weeks._

Tim let himself lament another minute or two, before grabbing his phone and ordering Chinese. It wasn’t long before he heard the doorbell and _wow, they were faster th_ _a_ _n usual_.

He went to open the door and froze. “ _Jason?_ ”

“Hi, Timbers.” Jason said, his smile faltering. “You let me come in?”

“What are you doing here, Jay?”

Jason looked confused himself. “We have lessons today, don’t we?”

Tim blinked, because _yeah, usually_ , but what about, you know, _last two fucking weeks._

“You still want to?” Tim asked finally, not really knowing what he should have been expecting. He looked him over, noticing Jason was carrying shopping bags.

Hunger won, so he let him in.

Jason didn’t hurry with unpacking the bags – flour, milk, cocoa and a variety of other ingredients were placed on the counter. He planned on working on few cakes, pastries and other sweets for today. “Why wouldn’t I? You payed for this month anyway, I owe it to you.”

When finished, he turned to Tim and received a confused look from him.

Jason sighed, the energy from before leaving him.

He leaned back by the kitchen counter, facing Tim but his eyes were turned away from him.

“Tim, listen, _I…_ ” He stopped, nerves overtaking him, and scratched his head in frustration.

He tried again, but this time looked Tim in the eyes.

“I’m sorry _too_.” He started seriously. “Guess you aren’t the only asshole in this neighborhood, huh?”

Tim hasn’t seem to react at all and Jason’s nerves were getting to him again. He didn’t know how long they were looking at each other like that – Jason in anticipation for _something,_ while Tim… processing.

Then, finally, Tim finished processing what the fuck just happened.

Laugh wasn’t the reaction Jason was expecting, but he wasn’t thrown out or attacked. So he smiled, hopefully.

“You are an asshole!” Tim said, still laughing.

“Yes. You are one too, Timmers.” Jason replied, the giddiness taking him over too. Should he be worried that their reaction for stress was apparently laugh, or was this because of the residue Joker’s Gas in Gotham’s air?

“I thought you were mad at me! That I would find you _dead!_ ”

Jason grimaced at that, his mood turning sour quickly. Yes, he was mad, rightfully so – they both weren’t pulling punches back then. But he didn’t _want to_ worry Tim.

“I thought that _you_ were mad at _me_.” He said, trying to explain, why it took him so long.

“I was,” Tim admitted, calming down. “Then you decided to take down the shipment by yourself and I had _other reasons_ for being mad.”

“I had everything by the control.”

“And we both talked it over why _going alone_ was a _shitty_ idea!”

Jason bit back a retort,while Tim was already looking sorry. They both knew they had to stop before it escalated. The problem was, that now they didn’t know what to say, what to do. Each of them afraid that one wrong move would destroy for good that little peace they managed to got back.

Suddenly Tim’s stomach grumbled – and the atmosphere stopped being so heavy.

Jason glanced at the ingredients on the counter and then looked back at Tim.

“I’ll make some pancakes for both of us and then we make cookies for Alfred?”

A peace offering. Tim didn’t hesitate to take it.

“Sure.”

Jason returned Tim’s smile with his own.


End file.
